diary of a broken soul

Page 18: maybe in the afterlife

Dear diary,

Sunrises, sky, cold wind, dawn, rain, wind, waves, oceans, trees, birds, afternoon breeze, sunset, moon, and stars were my substances of consistency, happiness, and contentment in my life cycle. Those were my only constant things that will continue to sail in the waves of my turmoil memories.

If I were to choose between living without memories or dying with them, In a hospital wearing a white gown for patients, I would be happy to die here right now with all of them intact. I will choose to die as someone who remembers what it feels like to have actually lived. Painful memories may be erased in the process if I choose to fight and live, but I will never want to forget them.

I sighed loudly and looked away when my doctor, who happens to be my crush, looked in my direction. The familiar feeling of hope in my heart resurfaced. I could hear my heart beating so loudly. My cheeks were flushed, and the storm on my head suddenly turned into soft clouds.

Dr. Wade Justin Ferrer, a neurologist, held my heart captive. Everything about him is so familiar. His voice sounded so much like a favorite song. The way he moves so gently is so precise and calculated.

He smells like an old summer daydream. And his eyes... his eyes were brown, and the shade of sepia hides so much emotion in him. I always felt like I was looking at someone who knew the Cathrine I used to be.

Then there's the familiar beat of my heart. It only happens when he's around. The funny thing is, I'm dying, yet my heart is alive. How's that even possible?

"Hello, Catherine. Time to sleep, Cathrine." He uttered my name like he's used to saying it all the time.

I smiled. I'm sleeping with his voice playing as my lullaby.

Then I would wake up crying. One day, I had the courage to ask.

"Are you in love?"

And he said yes. I cry, trying to sleep again. But I need to hear his voice.

"To whom?" I asked.

"To someone who can't remember me."

I felt the spang on my heart, and tears were about to fall. It's a nightmare.

"Why don't you make her remember?" I asked again.

He sighed. I thought he wouldn't answer, but he did eventually.

"I don't want to force her. It will cost her a lot of her memories in order for her to remember me." He smiled, but all I saw was sadness drawn in his face.

"I don't understand," I said.

"Let's just say, I love her so much. She taught me to love freely and not selfishly. My love for her won't change even if she no longer remembers me. The love she gave me is eternal. I will not ask for more."

"But you're a brain doctor. Can't you do something about it?"

"My profession is useless, Cathrine. I lost myself first before I even lost her."

He's in pain, and so am I.

I understand, but I choose not to. Whoever that girl is, she's just like me. I don't remember who I was. My brain is damaged, as are my memories. I don't even clearly remember yesterday. I only see remnants of them.

Then his face.

Wade.

His name slides out of my lips naturally. Why does it sound so familiar to me?

And why did my heart hurt when we had that talk? Do I love him?

I love him.

I love him not just because I feel pain but because of the things he makes me feel when he's around. My love for him taught me how to appreciate the simple things around me: his presence, his baritone and thunderous voice, his almond eyes, and his gentle approaches.

I appreciate the idea of him smiling and breathing, and the concept of small talks with him will always make my day. He made me feel so many emotions that even if I forget what happened yesterday, the feelings will always come back.

My love for him wasn't shallow; it was free but not selfish.

I will never tell him that I love him. Because the moment my brain collapses, I can no longer do anything but forget him, just like the love of his life fails to remember who he was.

I can't do that.

I just smiled for myself. I am rotting for him to have the love that he deserves one day. When I'm gone, I will be guiding him until he finds someone who will stay with him because my love wasn't shallow; it wasn't selfish. It is the kind of love that I am willing to give up just so he can be happy.

And finally, when they're about to marry, me, who was once his patient who adored and loved him, was just up there, watching a wedding that wasn't mine but his. And when his bride walked in the aisles, wearing a dreamy wedding gown, it wasn't just Wade who was looking at her with tears in his eyes but also me.

I will watch up there. I will cry for both of them.

I never thought death could be this painful for me, huh?

Even after my death, I sure love him still. I will look down and watch them build a family. I will be there beside him, maybe even in the afterlife. There, I will always remember him. Will he find me? Will we meet there? I will be waiting. Until then, I will always love him.